Whenever I take the kiddles to our regional park’s “Little Farm,” I feel thorougly vindicated by my vegetarianism. I can look pigs proudly in the eye. If only they’d lift their umpteen pound heads to look back. Of course some of them have good reason not to lift their umpteen pound heads. Some of them have just spawned enough piglets to populate a soccer team.

Behold, especially if you don’t have a BLT in your hands, a wee photo essay celebrating the miracle of new life (and the phenomenal good fortune that none of us reading this have had to squeeze out eleven iterations of it in one go).

Fig. 1. “‘PEACH’ Our new large white sow will have piglets soon. â€“Stanley, The Farmer”